


Wishing Well

by ScrawledScript



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Bao-Dur more like Bro-Dur, Dumbasses sharing a braincell and also later a bunk, F/M, Falling In Love, Force sensitive everyone, Idiots in Love, we'll see how this goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawledScript/pseuds/ScrawledScript
Summary: There's a lot going on in the galaxy, but right now it feels like most of it is happening to her. She's out of places to run, now, though, so she's here waiting. What's a few more creds in the wishing well, huh?A semi-coherent novelization but with 3000% more flirting because there wasn't enough in the real thing. If they'd let me kiss Atton I wouldn't have to do this.





	1. Chapter 1

_**::AWAKEN::** _

She's only been fully submerged in kolto twice in her life, both during the war, and neither were long stays. Maybe fifteen minutes, tops, to quickly address a large number of burns to get her back in the field. She didn't remember the itching, or the soreness, or the voices in her head. She begins to panic-struggle and the tank starts draining. Decanting is disorienting, uncomfortable. Her legs feel like they're made of Hutt slime.

It takes her too long to get up, despite the fact that she should have been buzzing with energy. She's freezing, and there's not a single medic in sight. Her bare feet leave a trail as she checks the other tanks. Maybe one of them would know something. Like how she'd gotten from a Republic ship to this...medical bay, at least. Chara taps on the screens of the tanks next to hers.

 

**NO LIFE SIGNS.**

**NO LIFE SIGNS.**

**NO LIFE SIGNS.**

**NO LIFE SIGNS.**

Kriff, all of them?

 

She groans, and palms the door open. It hesitates, but releases her into a hall. One door labeled morgue to her right, a door labeled med-bay to her left, and a malfunctioning door in front. Not malfunctioning, she sees, but damaged. Badly damaged. From what?

The med-bay is practically empty, too, not so much as a medical gown to wear. There are a scant few supplies, and a bag, so she packs those while listening to the logs. She feels sick, listening to them describe the Jedi and wonders how they’d found out. She’d been careful, she was three names gone from her real name, her tracks had been well covered. She’d seen to that, but. Apparently not well enough. Her first foray back into Republic space in ten years and she couldn’t even complete a flight. Couldn't make it to a backwater planet without ending up poisoned.

Peragus, she learns, is where she’s ended up. The name was familiar, tickling on the edges of her memory. Fuel, maybe? Metal? Some sort of mining operation.

With nothing else to do, she checks the morgue. Might've been something sharp there, a scalpel, anything that might help fight that creeping sense of dread. Any weapon in a fight was better than none.

There's an old woman, and one other body, no useful medical supplies or weapons. She almost turns to leave, but as she does, a metallic glint catches her eye. A plasma cutter? In the morgue? She tries not to think about why, and focuses on feeling grateful.

"Find what you are looking for amongst the dead?"

She jumps, and the datapad she'd been half holding drops to the floor. Kriff she'd gotten skittish. "I… you were dead." She says as if that explains something. Then she adds, "I heard you, while I was…"

"I was asleep, closer to death than I would like." The old woman is moving slowly, getting to her feet.

Chara stands back, disinclined to be within arms reach of a risen corpse. The conversation they have leaves her unsettled, even more than the bodies and the door. Poisoned, but she'd survived as a consequence of her training. Unconscious but still refusing to die. How had all of this come to pass?

She decides to make a quick exit, but promises to check back later, once she had a better idea of what was happening. The sooner they were off, the sooner she could get away from Kreia. _Idiot_ , getting caught up in this. _Bad luck_.

 

On the other side of the door are droids, who waste no time in firing. They weren't firing stun bolts, either. There's a sizzle of the wall behind her being scorched as she dances out of the doorway. She feints in close and almost loses her footing trying not to get her toes crushed by an angry droid. They go down easy, but one catches her side, her jumpsuit providing little protection. The remaining kolto at least numbs it, so she picks up a few useful items and carries on. Fortunately, a vibroblade was among the rubble. Better and better news.

A few corpses here and there, perhaps a few hours dead. They were beginning to swell, but not enough that whatever happened could have been more than eight hours. Call her picky, but she wasn't about to steal a dead man's boots. None of them were her size, anyways.

Combat comes back to her, muscles fighting through ten years of decided idleness with an ease that should have alarmed her but didn't. It was keeping her alive, for now, and that would be enough. There would be time later to think about it. Just had to make it to later, first.

Before the next door, she begins to understand that she was waking up in more than one way. The numbness is wearing off, both in her body and in her mind. Kreia calls out to her, and try as she might, there is no denying that the _Force_ was there; they were speaking telepathically, the way she used to when she was younger. Before.

No time for that, pack it away. Keep moving.

Chara is horrified at the carnage in the station, shocked that droids had been able to so completely decimate the security forces here. This was an inside job, by anyone's guess. Some of the logs seemed to implicate the head technician, but something didn't sit right. More important things than who, right now, than how to get out.

Thank kriff for observant paranoids. One of the logs gives her a way to shut the droids down- though she wonders why it hadn't been used yet. If it was just a shut down, why not go straight for it? Still, now was better than never. She clips on the stealth field generator with a huff. Sneaking wasn't her favorite activity. It was slow, and she preferred to move quickly. In any case, there were too many droids to try and brute force her way through without a shield.

She's sustained a few burns on her thigh and back. Her jumpsuit was almost more hole than fabric. So, sneaking it was. Chara holds her breath, trying not to mentally chant Jedi mantras. She had done a good job of that this past decade, but with the inexplicably resurging Force and the familiar sensation of her life being at risk brought old habits back.

She steps patiently, taking care not to get too close, and avoiding their visual sensors when possible. Just before she reaches the console, a droid suddenly darts in front of her, nearly knocking into her. She stumbles back, toes curling to catch her. It looks to the left. To the right. There is a long minute where she and the droid are making one-sided eye contact. The mining lasers on its arms nearly touch her, but she's too nervous to move back. Whatever had alerted it seems to have passed, and it goes back to its patrol.

She lets out a breath once she's sure she won't be heard.

The console isn't locked, and she sends a mental thank you to the universe. The droids all hum for a moment, and then they go still. She takes up a defensive position before switching off her belt, just in case it didn't work. But the droids ignore her, and chatter to themselves. Good. A galaxy full of problems, but one less for now.

_**Be careful, beyond this door lies one who yet lives.** _

She doesn't respond, but instead opens the door. Sitting inside one of the back cell was a man, who hops to his feet when he sees her. He tries not to look surprised, as if he weren't imprisoned on a dead station. "Nice outfit. Did you miners change regulation uniforms while I was in here?"

She follows his eyes down her body, where they settle on her bare, dirty feet. He lifts a curious eyebrow in her direction. She clears her throat, "Couldn't tell you, I'm new here. You got a name?"

"Atton, Atton Rand. I'd shake your hand, but the field only causes mild electrical burns." His smile is easy, practiced. She wonders how long he's been in here.

"Chara, nice to meet you. Gonna keep this short, Rand, things are not going well out here. You're the first person I've found alive- uh, second, I guess, but the first one was dead at first." She shakes her head, "Anyways, do you know what's been happening on this station?"

He explains his brief trip from dock to cell, and his understanding of station politics. It was making a little more sense, the droids, the betrayal. Over what, some bounty?

"Hey, you're the Jedi they brought aboard, aren't you?"

She blinks out of her thoughts, "I'm not a Jedi."

"Pfft, okay," he rolls his eyes, "but, hey, listen. I can help, okay? Just let me out."

She takes a second to give him a critical once-over. His dark vest might have been armor, but he was mostly just in plainclothes. His boots had walked plenty, but were kept well enough. He seemed as tired as she was, probably hungry. Hard to sleep or be comfortable in a cell, and he'd been ignored a good while before the massacre happened. She could take him, if he tried anything. Probably.

"Sure, gimme a sec. Got any ideas? Everything is locked down, I think. I'm not so big on the computers." Chara fiddles with the controls, "The emergency protocols should've unlocked the turbolift, but. They're sealed."

"You think this was on purpose?"

"Has to be. Someone on this station has been trying very hard to kill me."

The field drops, and the electric hum she hadn't noticed goes silent. His shoulders relax a bit, now free. She makes an _after you, I'm the one with the sword_ gesture with her hand and he takes a few cautious steps out.

They're both keeping an eye on the other, but she's too tired to expend energy thinking about it. Either he was going to be an asset or he was going to be dead.

"Well, I've got communications up. For all the good yelling into a vacuum will do. Especially if these people are responsible." He says, taking a defeated seat at the console.

She shakes her head, "There's got to be someone out there."

Together, they cycle through channels until they hear some beeps and clicks. Binary, a droid. Different than the ones here, a T3 unit. Seems familiar, but she can't place him. He's trying to be helpful, but he seems just as trapped as they were.

"Do you think you could get the turbolift unlocked, then?" She asks hopefully. Her companion rolls his eyes at her tone, but she knows her way around a favor.

The droid agrees, and ends the call. And they're left alone, in the quiet. For the first time since waking a couple of hours ago, she has a moment to think.

She slumps onto the console, using her arms as a rest for her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Been one of those days, you know? Also I’ve been poisoned." Her voice is muffled, but she knows he heard. She sits up suddenly, "Oh, hey. Found these in the med-bay."

She digs in her bag, and tosses him one of the nutrient bars. They were nasty, glycolic bars meant to stabilize blood disorders in humans, which seemed to be the primary population of this station. She hoped- perhaps grimly- that whoever they belonged to either didn't need them anymore or had their own supply.

He catches it, reads the label and grimaces, "I've eaten worse."

"Me too." She says. They both bite into their bars, and she laughs when they both nearly choke. "Maybe not. Kark that's nasty."

It's silent long enough that she starts to doze in the chair. Probably not the best move, but you learned to sleep when and where you could while you had the chance. She doesn't trust Atton, but she gets the feeling he's more interested in staying alive than trying anything. It's enough for a small nap.

Maybe twenty minutes later, he taps loudly on the metal to wake her. She stretches, feeling better than she had before her eyes had shut.

"Hey, your droid came through. Turbolift is… open. I guess, even if it's a bad idea."

"Weird that T3 didn't contact us. Okay."

"You can't be thinking of going down there."

"Someone has to. Might as well be me. Can you keep an eye on me from here?"

He shakes his head and sighs, "I mean, yeah, I can try."

"Fine. Do what you can."

They scrounge up some comms and test that they're working. Once the signal finally comes through, she sets off. As she crosses back to the turbolift, she thinks about checking on Kreia, but decides against it. Better things to do than talk about the past.

The ride down was uncomfortable. It was getting hotter, and the lights flickered off twice. She was not about to die in a turbolift. Chara checks the panel on the ceiling, how far she'd realistically be able to climb if she got stuck. Not far enough, she figured.

Fortunately, she makes it down without having to find out. Added bonus, a small container down at the bottom. A full suit, work boots, and even an energy shield.

"You made it."

"Holy kriff!" She hisses, "Time to switch to stim-less caf, Chara."

"Did I scare you?"

"Well I'm in a very scary mine, and a strange man was suddenly in my ears while I'm getting dressed." She laughs once, "Found a mining uniform. Should help with the heat."

"Aw, you mean my fantasies of being rescued by a underwear-clad heroine are gonna have to wait?"

"I _did_ free you from a prison you surely would have starved in."

"You didn't carry me in your arms into the starset though. I'm feeling cheated."

"Damn, I'm a bad fantasy rescuer. I'm _so_ sorry to have failed in my duties. Good news, I look great in just about anything."

"That's probably for the best, anyways. It was really distracting, y'know, for the droids." He says, but his voice is dour.

"Something wrong?" She asks, tightening her laces. The energy shield clicks on her wrist with ease, and she feels at least more prepared.

"Just getting in some scans. There's nearly an entire battalion of droids down there with you."

"That's a lot."

"Maybe you can sneak by? Noticed you were wearing a stealth generator earlier."

"Oh, did you, amongst all the other things I was wearing?" She laughed, "I used it get to the console. Don't know if that'll work twice. I'm not the quietest."

"They didn't teach you how to hide in Jedi school?" He teases, but there's something else she can barely pick up on. Something that can wait until later, at any rate.

"They might have, but I could never find the instructor."

"Oh, wow, a _funny_ Jedi."

" _Not_ a Jedi." She clicks on the stealth field, "I'll sneak past what I can. Won't hurt to try."

"Might hurt a little." Atton says, "But alright. I'll keep quiet until I've got something important to say."

And Chara wanders into the heated, slag-filled mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**_::Escape::_ **

 

She is grumbling to herself, digging through piles with an irritated huff, kicking refuse because she can. Her hands are covered in soot and dirt and droid grease. She's not fond of looting, really, but every edge counts, and there's plenty of goodies hidden in this facility. She'd found several already, but nothing that would help her beat a voicelock. Well, scratch that. She's just found a sonic-imprint sensor, tucked purposefully beneath a console. Why had it been hidden, here? 

 

"Hey, droid, question."

 

"Yes, master?"

 

She hates the feeling that word gives her- a different context, a different world. It feels like oil out of its mouth, like it is making some sort of joke. It had always been a joke, really, when she thought about it. There was a time when it was all she'd ever wanted, but now it feels like someone has hit her in the stomach.

 

"You had the recording of his… of his death, right.  _ And _ the code?"

 

"I did, master."

 

"In theory, could you just speak the code in his voice?"

 

"Indignant answer: that would be against protocol, master, unethical!"

 

She makes a show of shrugging, "Oh, that's too bad. I thought your programming would be up to it, but I guess not."

 

And that does it, the droid hands her the code in an instant of offended pride. She barely contains her grin and eyeroll, but she manages. It's enough to get her off this level, though she certainly doesn't relish a spacewalk right now. She's tired, today is dragging on, and the list keeps adding up. Every time she deals with one problem, four more spring up in its place, a never ending parade of challenges that didn't feel anywhere near the end. 

 

"Okay, well. I'm going now, see if I can't find someone to help us out of this mess. Stay safe, droid."

 

"But master, it would be better to wait for rescue. The miners have...expired, thanks to a series of well-timed explosions in the dormitories."

 

She turns back into the room, "What did you say?"

 

"After your identity was discovered, many of the miners debated selling you to the Exchange. I could not lose my bounty."

 

"Bounty?" Something begins to click in place. 

 

"I mean, of course, your life, master. My vocabulator must be malfunctioning." 

 

She blinks, "And...so. After that, things started going wrong."

 

"Failure after cascade failure brought them into the dormitories, which suffered an unfortunate disruption in ventilation. Any who sought to escape the mining droids found themselves suffocating, cowered in their quarters."

 

She has enough sense not to press further. It walks and talks like a protocol droid, but Chara knows not to assume right now. Too many vocabulary slips, too much knowledge about the exact way in which this station fell apart, the ability to overcome any of the voice-printed locks on any of these consoles. The awareness creeps over her like frost on a viewscreen, and she is glad this droid is stupid enough to be tricked.

 

"Well, maybe I'll just. Check. Bye." And she backpedals out of the room, careening towards the airlock.

 

**_Voice print ID: R1-B5_ **

 

She  _ really _ has had  _ enough _ of this Sith-damned mine. Not only was this airlock  _ voicelocked _ but also, just for shits and giggles, there were homing mines, just hanging out. She couldn't just blow them up, could she? If the airlock door was damaged, she'd be trapped in this sector with this homicidal droid, or sucked out into space, if the emergency protocols there malfunctioned just like everything else on this station. She was not optimistic about the chances those particular ones were still active. So, the only thing to do would be to draw them out and detonate them, somewhere far enough to protect the door. She moves a few crates in preparation, building a small defensible spot. It's not ideal, but it will be enough. Probably.

 

She double checks her shields, powers them up, and steps briefly into the room. Without much prompting, the mines begin floating, and she takes a step back. They follow suit, a little quicker than she likes, but she draws them out of the room, then dives behind her wall of crates and takes a shot. She feels her shield absorb some of the heat, and waits for a few moments to make sure that nothing else was falling or flying her way. The droid doesn't even come to check on her. Fake ass protocol droid. Couldn't even keep up the charade for ten minutes.

But, it's fine. She didn't want to talk to him, anyways.

 

Chara tugs on the clunky suit, giving it a small check to make sure all the seals are unbroken, that oxygen was flowing, that the boots would hold her down. 

 

Space is a lot prettier when there's a pressure seal between you, or even better, an atmosphere. Space is  _ not _ pretty when you're traipsing along some rickety scaffolding affixed to a collapsing fuel mine. It makes you feel entirely alone, like you are the last living thing in all the galaxy. Space looks  _ hungry _ when you're alone, waiting patiently to swallow you up into all those distant stars and empty voids between. All it needs is a loose screw or an ill timed quake.

 

"Oh, hey, your signal finally cleared up." Atton breaks into her casual panic, "That can't be right. It says you're outside the station. Hold on I'll-"

 

"No, that's correct. Look up." She says. She can see him bending over the consoles. Waving takes a lot of effort in this suit, but it's worth it, "Hi, Atton."

 

He gives a confused wave back, "You're...why are you outside?"

 

"Dormitories are locked down. Only way to get there is, well, this."

 

"You're  _ actually _ crazy, even for a Jedi." 

 

"Not a Jedi. Just crazy. Hey, are these comms secure?"

 

"Not really." He says, "Look, you need to hurry and get out of there."

 

She engages the oxygen display, still plenty. Everything still in order. She tilts her head, but realizes he probably can't see it. "Problem?"

 

"The vents have gone active. There are protocols in place- with the airlock open it shouldn't be able to… Oh,  _ what _ now?"

 

"Atton, I really can't. Handle any more bad news." She sighs, "Hit me with it."

 

She sees him point behind her, and she sees the  _ Harbinger _ , the ship she'd been on. Force alive, how had it come here?

 

"It's transmitting docking codes." He says incredulously.

 

"Can you...make it not do that?"

 

But she sees the docking tunnels expanding, connecting automatically after their codes had been met. It's too late.

 

"I… alright. I'll hurry through the dormitories. Blaster ready, yeah?"

 

"Yeah. Be careful of the vents." He waves a now-blaster filled hand at her, and she totters off.  She doesn't feel the heat, but thinks she should, as she passes beneath a spouting trail of plasma. She sees it creating a mauve mist as it is exposed to the vacuum.

 

Space is not pretty, she thinks, but Force does it try to make you forget that fact.

* * *

 

Her suspicions confirmed, she takes a moment to rework the lockdown code. Stupid droid didn't know when to stop talking, it seemed. Gloating was bad form, though today it seems to be working in her favor. She reverses the code, a simple dot matrix done in haste by dying men, and the lift unlocks. Thank the Force, finally. This turbolift is in much better shape, and she reaches the top quickly.

 

She nearly _shoots_ Kreia when the doors open. Does no one understand that she is very, _very_ stressed, and that she is very, very _armed_? 

 

"We shouldn't linger. Our enemy approaches." Kreia says ominously. 

 

Chara thinks about shooting her anyways. Just for a moment.

 

"Let's go collect Atton, then, and get out of here."

 

They move quickly, and for the first time today, she scares someone else. He jumps, too, and shakes his head wildly. He looks at Kreia for all of four seconds, and says, "Did you Jedi start breeding when I wasn't looking?"

 

"I know, it's a lot, but we need to keep moving." She says, trying to be comforting. Neither of them were really in the mood, though. He just shrugs and looks back at the  _Harbinger._

 

"I take it that Republic ship wasn't carrying friends of yours?"

 

"I hope your talent for understatement is not reflective of your skill with a blaster." Kreia barbs, and Chara balls a fist. There's three living people on this entire station, and Kreia is going to sit here and insult the only other person who is going to help them get off this station? 

 

"I'm also good at running and drinking, your majesty." Atton shoots back. He give Chara a look of  _ really _ ? 

 

She rolls her eyes and nods,  _ Yeah, sorry _ .

 

Chara moves them along with a shepherding hand, come along. This way, this way, quick step now, no time to dawdle.

 

"Alright, then, kids. Here's the plan. We're gonna board that ship and reach the little freighter in the hangar and get the  _ kriff _ off this station."

 

"Uhm, excuse me-"

 

"Master, perhaps I was unclear. I suggested we stay put and await rescue." A metallic voice says, and Chara pulls a gun.

 

"Her" protocol droid was now armed, flanked by another set of mines.  _ Why _ was there so much explosive material available on this rocket-fuel-stuffed rock?!

 

"No, I heard you. I just don't really like assassin droids."

 

"Master, assassin is such a crude-"

 

And they all open fire.

* * *

  
  


The  _ Harbinger _ is, well, not quiet, exactly. The engines run, the ventilation is working well enough. The ship has become a temperature controlled graveyard, and she its newest visitor. But it's quiet enough that they're all on edge.

 

She hasn't relied on the Force in a long time, had almost forgotten what it meant to be connected to the lifeblood of the universe. She forgot how it felt to be  _ nudged _ , to receive  _ warning _ , however vague and unhelpful. But now there is an alarm that goes off in her chest, the sensation of being in danger comes in clearer than anything had all day. 

 

But nothing happens, and the ship is quiet. The danger shifts from her to Atton, who is absentmindedly picking through supplies left behind. She lifts her vibroblade, ever so slightly.

 

"Atton, come look at this for a second."

 

He looks up, and sees something in her face that she wasn't sure she was communicating, and draws his blaster. At the same moment, a sword swings down as he rolls away, and a stealth field is broken.

 

Four people in dark garb. Sith, she realizes as they engage one another. Actual, literal Sith. Here, on the  _ Harbinger _ . Docked at Peragus II.  _ But...why _ ?

 

"Oh, great. Invisible Sith assassins. Anyone wanna explain what's going on?" Atton says, checking himself over for wounds. When he finds none, he frees the Sith of their possessions.

 

"If I knew what was going on, I would tell you."

 

"What an  _ interesting _ day we're having." 

 

"No kidding."

* * *

  
  


It disturbs her greatly that she had been detected just as soon as she'd set on returning to Republic space. It had been a good deal, though, for boarding. Should've known. She should have recognized their interest, that this protocol droid had been keeping too attentive an eye the whole time. Her instincts had dulled to the point that she'd been a captive without even knowing.

 

"You okay?"

 

"Uh, yeah, sorry. This was my room, here. Let me grab my things."

 

"Your room? When?"

 

She keys the door and Atton follows her in. He picks up the bag that had been discarded on the floor, and holds it open for her. She starts pulling clothes out of the dresser, shoving them in unceremoniously in favor of haste. Atton doesn't pry, just laughs when she pulls a small blade from under her bed.

 

"Got everything?" He asks as she shoulders her bag. Feels lighter, but it might be the drugs finally fully flushing out. Or she'd been robbed and was missing something. 

 

She nods, "Yeah. Wanna check the ones across the hall? I'll get this other one."

 

"Looting, huh? Will wonders never cease?"

 

"We shouldn't linger here." Kriea drawls from outside the room. They both roll their eyes, and they go about their business.

  
  


Like the rest of the ship, the medical bay is a mess. She inserts the datapad she'd found in her room, and sighs when the treatment history displays.

 

"If anyone is keeping score at home, I have spent the last three and a half days unconscious because that stupid droid drugged me  _ here _ . Tampered with the orders. Told me it was a new immunization for re-entry, that slag." 

 

No one says anything, but they move on. They leave more assassins behind them, new bodies for the  _ Harbinger _ . Glass crunches under her boots, grinding into the synth sole.

 

Another Force nudge comes, more like a shove in the dark.  _ Danger, danger, run _ . 

 

Unhelpful, all things considered. Of course there was danger. But Kreia turns, and while she doesn't want to, Chara joins her.

 

It was the man from the footage- if man was the right word. The medical officer had had the right of it, it didnt look like he should be holding together, like his skin was a bad patchwork blanket. His skull was ruined, one eye clearly blind. But still, there was a near palpable sense of...something bad.

 

Kreia tells them to run, that she will hold him back. Chara doesn't believe it for a second, but doesn't fight it. Perhaps the old woman would surprise them and win. 

 

There isn't anything to do about it, and she isn't so callous that she's willing to squander what little time Kreia was purchasing in blood. So she and Atton run together, and they don't talk about it.

 

They make it through to the fuel line as quick as they're able. Atton goes in first, she puts a foot over the threshold and  _ screams _ . It comes out of nowhere, like she'd been shot. Like her hand was on fire. It knocks the wind out of her, and she can't focus on anything else. She falls and tries to squeeze it, smashes it under her knee, as if it would stop the pain.

 

"What's wrong?!" She thinks he's got his blaster out, but she can't tell. He tugs on her arm, "We're almost there."

 

"My  _ hand _ ," she cries, "There's something wrong with my hand."

 

He bends immediately, pulling on the hand she was both crushing and nursing. His wordlessly fingers lace between hers, and he squeezes. She returns the pressure. He pulls lightly, and she pulls back. A basic check, though not necessarily one average people would do automatically. It was informal field medicine. 

 

"You look fine. Just hold on, okay? Stay with me." He helps her up, still keeping a gentle hand on her forearm. She's sweating, sick to her stomach, but the pain falls to the back, and she's able to move.

 

"Sorry. Let's go." She tells him. She struggles for a few steps, but he keeps pace, and when she's returned to normal, they run.

* * *

  
  


She hasn't fired a turbo laser in a good long while. It's satisfying, really, lighting this hangar bay on fire. She whirls around, trigger finger steady, and lights another two Sith up. A flash of movement draws her back, and she catches another getting too close to the ship for comfort. Chara can hear Atton telling her to hold on, just as a robed figure emerges from the carnage and runs on board the freighter. 

 

The ship lifts, and she takes a deep breath. Now, just to outrun a Republic warship. She rushes back to the cockpit, Kreia slowly coming up behind her. She sees the bright flashes of laser light, narrowly missing them, and another wracks into the ship. She braces herself on Atton's chair.

 

"Great. If they keep missing us, we're dead. If they keep hitting us we're dead." Atton grumbles.

 

"Just focus on clearing the debris. We can jump to hyperspace-"

 

But it's too late, she  _ feels _ . Seconds later another bright flash, bigger. Soundwave arrives just after. An explosion, an asteroid. Another asteroid catches. 

 

"Hold on!"

 

She nods, and does so. She grabs the strap in the co-pilot's seat, wraps it around her wrist, and bends to brace herself. He deserves some credit, he dodges and weaves through asteroids and she's impressed- and grateful. Lucky he was here.

 

They jump, and it feels like she might have a moment to breathe. Out from under immediate threat, they all seem to breathe easier. 

 

"It was no coincidence that the Sith found you." Kriea says, "They are looking for Jedi."

 

"Well they're doing a pisspoor job of it." 

 

"Whether or not you view yourself that way, they are coming for you, and they won't be stopped."

 

"But why  _ me _ ? There's loads of other Jedi out there." 

 

Two things settle in her heart, looking at their faces. First, that something had happened to the Jedi, that Atton hadn't been exaggerating when he'd mentioned the Jedi Civil War. That she was now one of few, and not an exile of many.

 

Second, that this problem is going to kill her, unless she does something about it.

 

"They can't  _ all _ be gone." She insists, "Can't be."

 

"You… were gone a long time, weren't you?" Atton asks gently. It makes her throat swell, eyes water. 

 

Kreia is listing out everything that had happened- that even Coruscant didnt have Jedi there. How it happened couldn't have just been about the Mandalorian Wars. There had been a lot, yes, but not enough to endanger the Order. 

 

Kreia goes to rest, and Chara stares blankly after her.

 

"Should probably go check on her."

 

"Why?"

 

"You saw her hand, right? I'm surprised she was able to stand at all. I'd be screaming like a stuck mynock. A tough, manly mynock."

 

"She seemed fine to me." She doesn't mean to sound harsh, but she is trying to reorient the universe around the idea that the Jedi are no more. 

 

"She was acting tough. She cares what you think about her."

 

"Didn't realize you were so sensitive." She teases, without much energy. "Fine. I need to explore the ship anyways."

 

"The  _ Ebon Hawk _ , if you were curious."

 

"Let's see what she's got to offer, then. Back in a bit." She waves.

 

T3 was waiting just outside, and he rolls and beeps along with her. Chara rests a hand on his dome, paying a minimal amount of attention to him. He lists everything wrong, everything he'd fixed, tells her about the rooms. 

 

"Alright, good job buddy. Keep up the good work." She knocks on the open door, "Up for some company."

 

Kreia turns, her hood down, blind eyes having no trouble locating Chara. It's not so much a chill that goes down her spine, really, more a sensation of being overly examined. She thinks this is the first good...look at her that Kreia has taken, and she takes the time to do the same.

 

She sits on the extended bunk, wondering why Kreia had chosen the floor. There was no telling how old she was, or what had caused her blindness. Sitting on the floor was uncomfortable. They sit in silence for a few seconds before Chara joins the woman on the floor, tugging the piecemeal medical kit out of her bag. 

 

"Tell me about the Jedi Civil War." 


	3. Detain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been traveling, but have a bit of a backlog, so we should be back to our regular bi-weekly schedule soon. Hi everyone!

_**::Detain::** _

"So, where is it?"

 "Where's what?" She already knows, though, what _It_ is. There's only one _It_ that anyone ever wants to know about when you're a Jedi. Not the schooling, the meticulous political and social etiquette, or the religious aspect. Nope, all anyone ever wanted to see was Force tricks and-

 "Your lightsaber."

 She has already hit the button to confirm their destination, but she stays at the screen, "Exiles aren't allowed to keep their lightsabers."

 He clicks his tongue, "Too bad. Might make those Sith think twice."

 "Or maybe it'd just make them kill me faster."

 A beat passes.

 "What sort of saber was it? Single hilt?"

 These questions feel oddly personal, but there's no reason to lie. Deflecting wouldn't do any good, and even though she'd spent ten years avoiding every thought of her past, it was here now. It was here and it wasn't going away. 

 "I had a unique blade, at least as far as my conclave was concerned." Her heart aches to think of it, "I used a double-bladed saber, with a sort of, teal color."

 "I heard those could make enemies trample over each other running for cover. They're dangerous to learn, right?"

 "All weapons are dangerous to learn, Atton."

 "Okay, Master Jedi, don't go getting philosophical on me."

 Her hand twitches, "You've got to get out of the habit of calling me a Jedi. We're going into Republic space, okay? Do me a solid."

 "Right." He seemed to make a mental note, but she has her doubts. The streaks of hyperspace distract her for a moment.

 "How long until we reach Telos?"

 She watches him click the console, "Half an hour, maybe a bit more with docking."

 "Can you check if the 'fresher is operational?"

 A few more clicks, a few displays of red and green, Aurebesh flashing almost too fast to read, "Should be. Looks like they got most basic things working."

 "Small mercies. If there's an emergency make it wait until I'm out."

 "I'll do my best." He calls as she's walking away.

 

* * *

 

Her hair is still dripping when Telos Security intercepts them as they're disembarking. They're posturing, she thinks, trying to make a show. In all, it's a poor showing. For all that they're accusing them of, eight people hardly seemed sufficient. What if they'd had a bigger crew?

 "For how long will we be detained?"

 "Until we can conduct a proper investigation into the explosion of Peragus." The Lieutenant answers. His attitude offends her. Reminds her of an old, bitter Master she'd once known.

 "You've got thirty-two hours before we're entitled to an arbiter." She says, "So, that's what you get."

  _Her_ attitude offends _him_ , she sees. His men react, lift their weapons. She doesn't move, doesn't need to. She and the Lieutenant are having a stare off, in which she makes sure he understands that she is complying but not impressed. He relaxes when he realizes she has no intent of resisting.

 "Back into a cell." Atton sighs, "Was just starting to get used to having leg room."

* * *

 

The cell is hot on the inside, which she maybe should have expected. She hadn't spent any time in force cages, really. When she turned herself over after… well, _after_ , she had barely been confined to quarters. Not that she’d been in much shape to explore, but still, there hadn’t even been a guard.

"I'm so tired." She mumbles to no one in particular, "I realize I slept for three days but I think I could go for a few more."

"Sedatives still kicking around?" Atton answers back. He sounds tired, too.

"Not sure. Used to be able to shrug that off pretty easily."

"Get drugged a lot, back in the day?"

"Toxins come in lots of forms. Alcohol, weird flora on foreign worlds, curious alien, shall we say, _secretions_." 

He gives a tired laugh. Kreia gives a disappointed _tsk_. Silence fills back in for a long while. She starts to doze off, the heat weakening her resolve to be awake. 

She isn't sure how much time has passed when the door suddenly opens. The power flickers for a moment. A Telosian officer walks through, a strange rifle strapped to his thigh. She pulls herself up slowly, feeling wobbly by now. 

"Problem, officer?" 

He moves to mess with the console. Something's off. He's standing strangely, checking over his shoulder.

"So, this is the last of the Jedi, huh? Not very impressive."

"Did I get a tattoo on my forehead that says 'Jedi' or what?" She doesn't understand. Had someone released the Jedi records? Was her name and face just public knowledge now?

"Nonetheless, the Exchange has a bounty out on you."

"There's no way someone like you works for the Exchange." Atton pipes up.

The man stops, "I’m more than qualified to work for them."

Chara starts shifting while he describes his process, which, really, isn't overly impressive. Sure, some skill required, but she knew the TSF was hardly secure. They were an underfunded, understaffed, laughably lax security force. It wasn't like breaking into the Core databases.

"Yes, you're very brave coming all the way here to just cheat." She sighs, "Typical."

He starts to say something, but Atton cuts in again, "Hey, leave her alone. You want to fight someone, fight me."

There is a confidence to it that she finds curious. He could use a blade well enough, but, she hadn't seen him use his fists. She was touched, too, that he was defending her. The feeling fades when she realizes the assassin was probably right, and Atton knew it. 

One on one, she wasn't sure she could take him. Not now, in this state, as out of form and tired as she was. Atton was defending her, but only because she genuinely needed it. She tries to remain grateful, but shame takes its place quickly. She'd done this to herself, and now Atton was having to risk _him_ self.

"One old woman, a fool, and a broken Jedi are no match for my skills. Come, Jedi, time to die."

The cages all drop, and the assassin draws his blaster. The first shot nearly catches her in the neck, would have, if not for Atton being closer and faster. He knocks into the would-be assassin, and a second shot goes into the ceiling.

She jumps in, aiming a kick at his knees, which connects but isn't strong enough to cause any significant damage. It buys them a moment as he has to readjust, and Atton begins working on wresting control of the rifle. Chara moves to rip his fingers, to help, and gets headbutted for her troubles. The rifle begins to move, though, but she can't tell who is moving it. Her vision swims for a precious second or two.

Another shot goes off too closely to her eyes, and she is momentarily blinded by the light. She worries that Atton has been hit, close as he was, but suddenly the assassin slumps. 

She looks to see Atton's fingers awkwardly around the trigger, holding the rifle in one hand, already in the process of turning it around. He'd wrestled it under the man's chin and fired.

Another shot before she can decide he's dead, clean shot to the chest. 

"Everyone okay?"

Atton nods, "Yeah. You?"

The door opens once more, and more TSF officers pour in, including less than respectable Lt. Grenn. He comes in sounding concerned, until he sees the dead man on the floor, and the rifle in Atton's hands. The other two officers train their blasters on him.

"Jedi, get back into the cage. Don't make me shoot you."

A soldier tries to object, "Sir, she's already killed- is that Batu Rem?"

Chara takes a step to stand in front of Atton, closer to Grenn, "No, that man was an assassin sent to kill me."

"Batu Rem is on leave." Grenn says, "This man can't be him."

"I'm really glad you realize that, now that he's snuck in and nearly killed me." 

Grenn makes a noise that might've been a growl, "Your quarters have been arranged, and we're going to have two guards posted at all times. I will personally clear any visitors."

"Oh, good, I feel safer already." Atton says and she has to fight a grin. She can almost _feel_ him relax a bit.

* * *

 

It's 0200 on Citadel Station, and so there's nothing to do but rest. She sits and closes her eyes, and for the first time in over a decade, she meditates. She recalls her lessons, the lectures over and over again until she learned to still her mind _and_ body. She controls her breathing, in and out, with the pulsing of her heart.

The Force no longer feels far away, but neither does it feel like it used to. Cataloguing the difference isn't hard: it felt like starting over, the way the Force had felt when she was young. Before she was proficient, but knowing that there was _Something_ there with her. Knowing that if she asked, _Something_ would happen. It isn't as strong or practiced, but it’s familiar. 

 It takes nearly two hours, but she feels comfortable with the progress. Once it was a more private space, she could do more practical things with her meditation, like practice _lifting_ and _pulling_. Basic skills, for crechelings, things she once could have done in her sleep. But not now.

 She lets the Force move through her, allowing it to warm her fingertips and fill her with energy. It is not unlike both sleeping and recalibrating a droid. 

 At 0359, before it is reasonable or respectable to have visitors, the console in the room goes off. It jerks her out of her trance, and based on the pillow he throws with surprising accuracy at the offending console, it has woken Atton as well. She drags herself forward, and clicks the _accept_ button.

 "Is this station on fire?" 

 "I've got- what? Uh, no, ma'am, the station is not on fire." The young guard outside her door is looking back and forth between the view screen and something else. She seems confused and apologetic.

 "Then what could _possibly_ be the matter this early?"

 "Uhm, sorry, you have a visitor. He's been cleared by Lieutenant Grenn. He says he's here representing the Ithorian, Chodo Habat."

 "Look, I'm new here. I'm tired. I don't know who that is or what they want. Can you get to the point?" 

 Atton is sitting up in bed, rearranging the blankets. She tries not to laugh at his hair sticking straight up. Kreia doesn't move, but Chara knows she is also awake.

 "I… he says he wants to meet you." She says slowly.

 "Fine, send him in, I'll express my disappointment in person."

 The door opens almost immediately, and in walks an Ithorian. She hadn't seen one in some time, she'd forgotten the way they moved- slowly, purposefully. He introduces himself as Moza, a representative of the Ithorian reparation team on Telos. It's still no reason to wake her this early.

 She asks no questions, has no real interest in what he is saying, until, "Chodo Habat said he could feel your wound when you arrived, and said he may be able to heal you."

 She stares, "I'm sorry?"

 "Chodo Habat is a strong leader, but I don't know exactly what he meant. I may have misspoke." 

 "So this Chodo Habat thinks he's going to save the planet and me as well."

 His posture doesn't change but she _feels_ him tense, "He may be able to explain more clearly, if you'll speak with him."

 "I'll… consider stopping by."

 "Thank you, we will look forward to your visit." 

 And like that, he's gone. She collapses face first on the bed, "Good night."

* * *

Another interruption. 0429.

"I'm going to pull the wires out of that thing." She growls. She jams the connect button, and isn't awake enough to be surprised by the droid on the other end.

"Good day, I am calling on behalf of Jana Lorso, of Czerka Corporation. May I connect you?"

"Yeah, you know what, go ahead." She says. The screen changes, and a human woman appears.

"Thank you for accepting my call." She starts, and jumps head first into a sales pitch. Chara lets her speak while she rubs her eyes.

"I'm sure-"

"Listen to me, Jana Lorso. Firstly, I don't care for the time you chose to call. Secondly, I am not interested in assisting slavers." And she hangs up, stomping back to bed.

"Is there a mute button?" Atton says, his voice groggy, "Because otherwise-"

"If anyone else comes calling before nine, I will shoot them with lightning out of my eyes."

"Can you _do_ that?" 

But she's too tired to answer, and her eyes close. She dreams of green fields, of grass under her fingertips, starlight on her face. Dantooine, she thinks. In the dream, it catches fire and the smoke makes her eyes water. It burns for what feels like years, and she can only stand and watch as the flames consume everything _but_ her. 

She briefly wakes up, wipes away tears in the still dark, and goes back to sleep. 

* * *

 

At 0900, on the dot, Grenn is back at their doorstep, no apology on hand, and not really bearing any particularly helpful news. Another Republic warship was on it's way here, at which point she assumes she'll be press ganged back into service, or arrested for...whatever charge they felt like, until she agreed.

But, at least, the _Ebon Hawk_ and their possessions are available for pickup, and they're allowed now to at least leave their rooms. She jumps at the chance to get out of the stuffy room. The station is easy to navigate, and they head immediately to check on the _Hawk_.

They make it halfway there before they- well, she- involve themselves in trouble. There's a… small scuffle with two Czerka mercenaries and a Sullistan, which only confirms for her that Czerka was still bad news. If that was the sort they were employing, the work they were doing couldn't be worthwhile. 

Except, she thinks as they walk, economies had to be rebuilt. After a war, there was more lost than just atmospheres and wildlife. Governments need commerce, commerce needs places to thrive. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, but she knows that Telos could be a new hub of activity, if encouraged in the right way. But Czerka wasn't it.

"How may I assist you today?"

"Hi. I need to check on my ship, the _Ebon Hawk_. She's been impounded." She pats her palms on the desk impatiently while the droid searches. The tune she beats out irritates even her, and perhaps an organic receptionist might have been equally annoyed. As it was, the droid keeps searching, searching, searching. 

"I'm sorry, but the _Ebon Hawk_ is not here."


	4. Fire

_**::Fire::** _

 

"You know, if the mercs are looking for him, we could hand him over, y'know, a Zabrak shaped bargaining chip." Atton whispers as they watch another patrol. She turns to shoot him a dirty look.

 

"Who do you think shot you down?" Bao-Dur says without heat. She admires his restraint.

 

She hates the sensation of almost-remembering. He doesn't seem familiar, no matter how she looks at him. She can't think about when they served together, and she isn't about to ask. She didn't need the whole War coming back to visit. But it bothers her the entire way through the Restoration Zone.

 

More surprising, though, was Bao-Dur himself. After she was exiled, she'd lost all sense of purpose. She hid herself away, for so long, and maybe he'd done the same for a while. But he's thrown his lot in, passionately, with the Ithorians. Chara doesn't see what saving a single, poisoned world would do, in the long run. But she is also beginning to remember the need to do  _ something.  _

 

The mercenaries roaming the plains were a private army, but she couldn't figure out what was so valuable about the area, short of a nice little smuggling hole.

 

And then she sees the beach, and her feet draw her into the gentle waves. Before she thinks about it, she is knee deep. The water is pleasantly cool to the touch. She turns her face to the star, letting its heat warm her skin. A pulse echoes through her, a sense of peace and well-being. There is pain, to be sure, but more than that, there is...hope.

 

"General?"

 

Bao-Dur has followed her in, nudging his sensor-ball to go scout around. Atton and Kreia are back a bit, one checking his guns while the elder ambles slowly.

 

"Sorry, distracted." She starts wading back out, but Bao-Dur holds out a hand to slow her. They take a more relaxed pace.

 

"I always feel better when I walk the surface here. Reminds me that there's still something good in the universe."

 

"You really believe in the Ithorians work?"

 

"I do."

 

She doesn't know what else to say, and thankfully doesn't have to think of anything. As soon as they're back on the shore, the sensor droid returns, beeping and booping. It tells them there's a larger patrol up ahead, but that it noticed a few ways that might serve to sneak by.

 

"Atton, are you morally opposed to mines?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Mm, what I mean is: Are you A, capable of using this stealth field generator to sneak into that camp up ahead and B, are you comfortable laying mines down?"

 

"I can get in just fine, and depends on the mines." He says. She pulls the black belt out of her bag and hands it over. He swaps his own belt quickly.

 

"I've got… a few. That I collect. I can make them to where you just need to put them down, but they'll practically be live in the bag." She pulls out three mines, which would be enough to block the mercenaries from following them. She then pulls out two more, for good measure.

 

"I can do it." He tells her, clearing out space in his pack. 

 

"You don't have to, I'm just rather paranoid." She places them gently, "We'll have to hang back so if something goes wrong-"

 

"I can take care of myself."

 

"I know." With the last of them secure she pats his shoulder, "But listen. If you think you're blown, just say my name, and I'll be there, okay?"

 

"Are you a magic fairy now?" 

 

She gives him a small shove, "That's right, but I don't grant wishes. Now get moving if we're gonna do this. If we hear blaster fire we'll come quick."

 

He steps back from her, and disappears. She doesn't hear him leave, or see any trace that he was ever there. He could have been a figment of her imagination, for all that she could tell.

 

"How are you gonna get over to him before he gets killed?" Bao-Dur asks with bland curiosity.  No doubt, just wondering.

 

"I can jump really, really far."

 

"Oh, great, I'm going to die because you think you can jump real good." Atton's voice is barely a whisper over the comm.

 

"Well don't get caught if you don't believe me."

 

What comes next is ten or eleven tense minutes, silent as she meditates and prepares her body. She surrounds herself with the potential for  _ movement _ and waits, just in case. 

 

She hears Atton hiss, "Crap."

 

"Blown?" Bao-Dur holds the comm up to his ear to hear better. His channel is open, they can hear him breathing now, but he doesn't answer.

 

"Chara."

 

And she  _ launches _ herself toward the camp, relishing in the Force-given speed. The world blurs around her as she goes. There is a small explosion on the west side of the camp, and the men all move to react. Their distraction is all she needs to get in close.

 

She catches one in the back, not sporting, perhaps, but better than facing him and four others. She sees the man who'd triggered the mine, leg injured to the point that he wasn't going to make it. 

 

She drops under a sleeping speeder and pops up on the other side, just as Atton reappears next to her to return fire.

 

"Fancy seeing you here." She says, having no time to check to see if he'd been hurt, "Told you."

 

He's too busy to answer, but she sees him give a half grin. She lets him fire, instead reaching under his extended arms to click the energy shield on his wrist. It flares to life just in time, as a bolt pegs him in the shoulder.

 

"Big guy, big shield coming in." He tells her, "Can't drop him."

 

"Focus on the others, I'll get him."

 

She pulls once more on the Force, quickening her pace. Another hop, and she's engaged with a big brute of a man. He's still got his blaster out, so she gets a good first hit in while he tries to switch. Chara spends most of the fight forcing him between his men and herself and Atton. He can't keep up with her, however, and she gets the better of him.

 

Bao-Dur and Kreia have finally caught up, much to the surprise of the remaining three mercenaries. She starts forward, until her leg buckles under her. Her thigh burns. There's a steady stream of swears on the comms, but she's more focused on the shooter. He was taking a second to aim, and despite the volley of blaster fire, she  _ knew  _ he was going to hit. 

 

Guided by Forces Inexplicable, she thrusts a hand out and  _ pulls _ . He isn't ready, and his rifle comes flying, captured by her waiting hand. She takes the shot, and doesn't aim for a leg.

 

The shooting stops.

 

"General?"

 

She grits her teeth as she readjusts to get a look at her injury. It was not a small wound, either. Bao-Dur is kneeling next to her, also examining, though she can see he's not entirely sure what he should be doing. Her leg is burnt and, well, gross. She can tell he's used to droids, not flesh.

 

"We've got a couple of medpacks in her bag." Atton is digging through as he says so, opening up the first one he finds.

 

Her hands are shaking- shock to the system, hasn't been injured like this in a long while- to take the hypo. He uncaps it, gently pushing her hand out of the way.

 

"I can do it," she tells Atton, "Ignore the shaking."

 

He gives her the injector, but his hand follows hers. He keeps a couple fingers on to steady, but lets her take care of it on her own. The bacta is a bit of a cold burn, but it helps. They wait a few minutes.

 

"Can you move?"

 

Bao-Dur helps her up, but she only gets about half way up before her leg gives, he ends up supporting her entire weight. A small shake of her head, "Kriff."

 

"It's alright, General, I'll-"

 

"No one's carrying me." She takes a breath, "Put me down. I need a minute."

 

It's somehow more work to get her back to the ground, taking both Atton and Bao-Dur to get her there comfortably.

 

"In the meantime, why don't you two see what you can find in the camp?" 

 

Kreia comes to sit in front of her, "I will aid you."

 

"Thanks."

 

Healing trances weren't difficult for her, growing up. She hadn't used them too often, but she'd had a knack. Healing in tandem was new, though. She hadn't...commingled, in the Force. Not for any extended period of time, no more than a brush of minds, but now, Kreia was so entangled.

 

They are separate, but unified. She can trace their energies, two distinct patterns that connected. It's weird, not uncomfortable, exactly, but-

 

_ Focus _ .

 

They construct an image of the wound, the cellular damage, the skin that's burned near to a crisp, the muscles straining to move. Together, they begin to repair each individual piece, reconnecting fried nerves and smoothing raw edges.

 

In minutes, the pain begins to subside. She hears the boys speaking, but can't concentrate on that. They release their connection once they're satisfied with their work.

 

Her eyes open, readjust to the physical world, and she stands up. The skin is sealed and doesn't need bandaging. It still hurts, probably will for a few hours, but she can walk and that's what's important. 

 

"Freaky." Atton says. Bao-Dur makes a noise in agreement.

 

"Wait 'till you feel what it feels like." 

 

"I don't know if you could hear us, but there's another problem." 

 

"Theme of my week this week. Let's hear it."

 

Bao-Dur points go the next small canyon they need to walk through, "Minefield."

 

"You and I can take care of that." She starts to remove her outer coat, pulls out the pair of gloves she'd found at Peragus meant to help with removing static while dealing with charges.

 

He shakes his head, "Turrets at the top of it."

 

"Hm." She sighs, "I can reach them. I've got some grenades I can drop in their casing and hop back."

 

"Hey, how many explosives are you carrying? First the mines and now grenades?" Atton takes a teasing, half step back.

 

"Only a few." She pulls two grenades out and gingerly sets her bag down, as if to say it might blow if she was too rough, "Enough to solve a few problems."

* * *

  
  


"Here. This should help." Shs hands over the breath mask she'd found at Peragus, "See if you can turn it off on the console. If we stick to the edges of the room it should dilute enough to only burn."

 

"You sure?"

 

"Call it a well educated guess."

 

Bao-Dur straps on the mask and walks forward. Chara takes a deep breath, remembering years of exercise. She sees Atton do the same, a cavalier calm expression on his face. Kreia is impossible to read as always. Chara isn't sure she's breathing. Once the gas triggers, they all run through to the next room while Bao-Dur slices the terminal.

 

"Problem, general." His voice is warbled from the mask as he comes into the hall with them, "Need a security terminal. Not this one."

 

"Perfect. Any way not to trigger the gas?"

 

"Run fast?"

 

Despite knowing several languages, Chara doesn't know enough rude hand gestures to articulate her displeasure, but she picks one she thinks he'll recognize. Judging by crinkle of his eyes as he removes the mask, he gets the message.

 

"I think they're set centrally, so avoid the middle if you can."

 

"Kreia, do you want the mask, just in case? No offense, but I think we're in a better position to handle it."

 

"The Force will sustain me." Kreia sounds bored, almost. 

 

"Alright, well you can't beat that." She offers the mask to Bao-Dur and Atton, "This isn't personal, but I think you should actually keep this on, Bao-Dur. Atton can hang back while the gas is going, and you and I can close in. I can repair any damage done."

 

She can tell he's uncomfortable with it, but she's left no alternative. It's the most logical solution, despite the fact that she's not entirely sure she can actually repair damage. 

 

"Okay, let's move quickly, keep an eye out. Watch out for each other." She commands, centering herself. The gas is going to hurt.

* * *

  
  


The shuttle is, as Bao-Dur says, serviceable. They do a couple checks on it, which are encouraging, except for the hangar bay doors still in the way. She spends most of the check clearing out her throat and chest. 

 

Atton calls from across the hall, "Hey, got the gas off."

 

"Good going. Get the doors unlocked, we need to turn this place back on, if we're going to get out."

 

It's a whole gaggle of problems to get to where they need to go, but they do it. Between Bao-Dur and Atton, there is enough computer skill to get the place back online. Kreia provides support, throwing Force shields over them when needed, and no one is injured.

 

They find a lone, stray Czerka mercenary, who she sends back through the facility. There's a short argument, in which she informs the twi'lek that she has killed all his fellows outside, and has little interest in holding his hand. The way is clear, and she doesn't much care if he makes it back. 

 

"What's that's noise?" She wonders as they return to the hangar. 

 

The floor shakes, quakes, something heavy stomping about.

 

"Big droid."

 

"Very big droid." She agrees, as it comes around the shuttle. She pulls out the last of her grenades and mines, counting quickly. Which isn't hard, considering there's only two grenades and one mine.

 

"It's coming this way." 

 

"Bao-Dur, get those doors open. Atton, take this. I'm gonna get it to chase me-  _ away _ from the shuttle. Get to that corner, set up the mine, and back out. Soon as it pops, take it down."

 

"Be careful." He says, and disappears.

 

This is a bad idea, a colossally bad idea. Her feet carry her while she takes very poorly aimed shots. Isn't hard to hit a big target, but it's more about getting attention. It turns slowly, and starts clunking her way. She has to take a couple shots to keep it interested, but stay close enough that it is using more melee options. 

 

She sees where Atton has laid the mine, and she steps carefully around that area. The droid follows, but is too distracted to notice. There's a bright flash, and the droid freezes. Deciding to chance it, she rushes forward and  _ jumps _ .

 

She almost overshoots it, but lands ungracefully on top. She digs a vibroblade into the visible wiring. Sparks fly, and the droid bumbles under her. She stabs it a few more times, clearing a hole large enough to stick her arm in.

 

"You're crazy!" Atton shouts, looking at her over his rifle. "If you fall and break your other leg I'm going to be disappointed.

 

Chara drops to her knees to brace, shoves her arm into the crater she's made. There's lots of important bits and bobs to break, and no time to think about which ones were which. Instead, of course, there's only one thing to do. Chara pulls the pin on the grenade and jumps.

 

Atton tilts his head, as she descends, confused.

 

"Did you just-?"

 

She grabs his hand and tugs him back behind cover. They brace together, and the grenade goes off. All things considered, it's a small explosion. The droid is a smoking husk- no chance for salvage- but they're clear. The hangar doors are half open, now.

 

She pulls back from him, "You did good."

 

"You're gonna give me a heart attack."

 

"Oh, come on, I know that looked cool."

 

"It did. Wish I'd had a recorder." Bao-Dur joins them, "We're good to go."

 

"I'm glad  _ some _ one appreciates my hard work."

 

It's a weird relief, but they're finally back in the sky. She settles in the second seat, and listens to Bao-Dur and Atton talk. Their voices fade into the background as she rests. She's nearly asleep when something impacts the shuttle.


End file.
